


Settling Scores

by BandanaBlue



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandanaBlue/pseuds/BandanaBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A good night at the poker table turns bad.  Does it mean Heyes and Curry will too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Settling Scores

His head snapped back with each blow. Lights flashed behind his eyes and he was starting to feel nauseous. His heart was pounding. Another blow followed and another. He could feel blood running from his nose and down the side of his face from a cut above his eye. His left eye was closing up rapidly. 

There was nothing he could do - his hands tied tightly behind him, his legs bound also. He could hear his partner cursing, issuing threats, begging them to stop but he knew they wouldn't. Despite the ringing in his ears it sounded like they were enjoying themselves. Glad somebody is, he thought bitterly.

A large fist found its way into his solar plexus leaving him gasping for breath through the blood in his mouth. He tried to take a breath before the next punch, but without much success. He felt as if he was suffocating.

At last they dropped him to the ground, his blood dripping into the dirt. He struggled to take a breath and prayed it was over but a boot proved otherwise as it connected with his ribs and he was sure he heard a crack. Groaning he tried to curl away from the kicks which felt like they were coming from every direction. There were just three of them but it felt like more. 

He wondered whether this was it - the end of the road - Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry beaten to death beside a dusty trail. It was a relief when blackness finally claimed him.

Sometime later Heyes began to fade back into consciousness. Eventually he willed himself to open his eyes but only the right eye would open properly and his vision was blurry. His tongue felt thick as it tentatively explored his lower lip which was swollen and split. Spitting blood he attempted to sit up, but with his hands tied behind him and a pain across his chest so bad he felt like he'd been kicked by several mules, he didn't have much success. He just lay there hoping they had gone and trying to listen beyond the ringing in his ears and the pounding in his head.

Those three fellas had turned out to be the worst losers he had ever come across and he had come across a few in his time. Last night's poker game had started off reasonably friendly. He had won a fair few pots but he hadn't taken all their money. He could have - but he hadn't. It had not even occurred to him that they might lie in wait for them along the trail. He wondered if it would have been any different if the Kid hadn't stepped in when the one with a scar the length of his cheek had accused him of cheating. But he couldn't blame the Kid, he was only doing what he always did - watching his back.

Where was the Kid anyway? Caught up in his own personal hell he hadn't realised he couldn't see him. He suddenly felt guilty and, taking as deep a breath as he could manage through the pain, he called out.

"Kid, you there?" Silence. "Jed! Jed, you alright?" A fit of coughing overwhelmed him and he lay there panting and clutching his chest.

Rolling over to look in the other direction he could just about make out a large tree and a length of rope attached at either end to a hand protruding from the cuffs of a blue shirt. Shit! They must have tied Kid to the tree.

"Kid, speak to me dammit!" Silence.

Heyes felt panic rising in his gut. Was his partner just unconscious or had they tied him there to use for target practice? He had to get free, and quick. He had to know. As adept at getting out of bindings as he was, with his aching body it took him the best part of an hour to loosen the rope enough to wrestle his now sore and bleeding wrists free.

"Kid?" he called again as he tried to reach the rope around his ankles. He would have to sit up. After several attempts to sit without everything spinning he managed to steady himself and tear the rope from his ankles. Then he tried to stand up. Gasping, Heyes fell back down on all fours and had little choice but to wait until he had stopped retching and the pain and nausea that engulfed him had eased before he tried to stand again. This attempt was also unsuccessful so he crawled round to the other side of the tree.

The sight that met his blurry vision was one he was sure he would never forget no matter how hard he tried. "No! Oh, God, no, no, no." 

Kid Curry was tied to the tree. He was facing the trunk, a length of rope linking his hands so his face was pressed against the rough bark. His legs were tied the same way and there was a bandana in his mouth, but this was not what had alarmed Heyes. The Kid's jeans and drawers were pulled down almost to his knees leaving him in no doubt what his cousin had been subjected to. There was a trail of blood down one of his legs. 

His own injuries momentarily forgotten, Heyes reached into his right boot for the knife he concealed there and forced himself to his feet. Head reeling, he made his way unsteadily towards the tree where he carefully cut the rope from Kid's feet and hands. He dropped the knife just in time to attempt to steady his partner but both men's knees buckled and they slumped to the ground.

Wrenching the filthy bandana from his mouth, Kid spat what little saliva he could muster as he tried to rid himself of the acrid taste of stale sweat. He said nothing.

"Oh God, Jed, I can't believe anyone would.......I'm sorry.......I'm so sorry I couldn't do somethin'......." croaked Heyes. His mouth was dry but he swallowed anyway to try to steady the tremor in his voice.

Kid knelt, his hands resting on his knees, his head down refusing to look at him, so Heyes went with his instinct and pulled Kid close. It was then that he heard the first sob escape from his partner. Wrapping his arms tightly around the younger man and trying to ignore the pain from his injured ribs, he buried his bruised and bloody face into the blond curls. 

Heyes was not sure how long they had sat that way, he may have even passed out again, he couldn't be sure, but he did know that it would soon be dark and it would be a good idea to try and get cleaned up before nightfall. This was wild country and the smell of blood could easily attract the attention of predators.

"Kid, I hate to say it but we gotta get moving, get to that crick we passed a way back, clean ourselves up," he said, releasing his partner and shifting his cramped legs.

The response was a single nod and Heyes watched, tears pricking his swollen eyes as his cousin got painfully to his feet and began to pull up his clothes. At last he could see Kid's face. He had taken a few punches by the look of it but only one or two bruises were starting to show. They obviously hadn't planned on using their fists too much on him. Heyes swallowed hard as bile rose in his throat at the thought of his cousin's ordeal and the guilt he felt in being unable to prevent it.

His belt now buckled Kid finally held out a hand and Heyes grasped it, groaning as he hauled himself upright. He leaned back against the tree as a severe wave of dizziness once again swept over him. At last Kid's red rimmed eyes met his.

"Jesus, Heyes, y' look like hell," he croaked as he took in his cousin's injuries.

"Kid, for a while there I really thought I was a gonner," replied Heyes.

"Sure you can walk?"

"No, but I'm gonna try. You?"

"Wish I didn't hafta, but I don't reckon we have a choice, d' you?"

Heyes managed a faint smile. "Nope. C'mon."

Curry picked up Heyes' knife and cut the remaining rope from his hands and feet. He then located all that remained of their worldly goods - their hats. Horses, gun belts, saddlebags, bedrolls and coats, the bastards had taken it all - and Heyes' poker winnings, of course.

Supporting each other they slowly made their way down the dusty track and eventually came to the creek that Heyes had recalled. After taking a long drink of the cool, clear water Heyes soaked his bandana and bathed his swollen eyes, cut lip and bruised face. He knew his hair was matted with blood so he scooped some water over his head and raked his hair back with his fingers forcing a sharp intake of breath as the movement hurt his ribs. His ribs. He pulled up his shirt and henley and tried to take a look at the bruises. They were pretty bad. He applied the cold water-soaked bandana gasping at even the slightest pressure. 

Eventually he looked up and saw Kid watching him closely. "Need some help?"

Heyes shook his head then beckoned to his cousin. "C'mon, you need to get in here too. It's nothin' I ain't seen before," he said kindly. 

"When you've finished, Heyes." 

"Okay. I'll go back over there and leave you to it." He pointed to a tree a few yards away. "Get as much of the blood off as you can. We're gonna be carrying enough around with us on our clothes, but we can't do anything about that."

Kid nodded and started to undo his jeans.

"You got a bandana or d' you want this one?" asked Heyes.

Without a word Kid produced a red bandana from his pocket as Heyes rose slowly to his feet and staggered to the tree before gently lowering himself to the ground to lean against the trunk.

Heyes tried to focus his brain to try and think of a way out of their situation. He knew they both needed a doctor but the town they had come from was a good day's ride and, in their current state and on foot, he doubted whether they would make it that far.

Apart from their obvious injuries Heyes was worried about the Kid. He had no idea how the assault would affect him, or what he could do to help. His cousin had survived so many traumatic experiences in his life he just hoped he had the strength to survive this one too, if they managed to live through the next few days, that is.

Heyes looked over towards the creek. Kid was squatting in the cool water, pain etched on his face. Heyes closed his eyes. Why couldn't they have just given him a beating too? Why do that? Hell, he'd had dealings with some bad people in his time but these sadistic bastards were in a class of their own.

He had endured a number of whuppin's as a child back at Valparaiso, they both had, but as an adult he had come to dread the blow of a fist more, fearing that it would release the anger-laden darkness that he knew festered within him. That was one of the reasons he stayed out of fights as much as possible. Kid had often complained when he hadn't helped him, joined in a fist fight when he wasn't doing too well, but it was difficult to put how it felt into words. He would only throw more than one punch if he really had to. Heyes had always feared that if somehow this darkness, or whatever it was, was released he wouldn't be able to control it and it would lead to him killing someone with his bare hands. Knowing what had befallen his partner he felt that this was now a distinct possibility.

Heyes suddenly became aware that someone was tapping his face. His hand shot up to grab the person's wrist before he opened his eyes but the movement made him gasp as pain shot across his chest.

"Whoa, it's okay Heyes," a comfortingly familiar voice said. "I think ya mighta passed out."

"Huh. I seem to recall a doc tellin' us once that's not good."

"Yeah, he also said ya should stay still, but we gotta get movin'. We need to find somewhere safe before it gets dark."

Kid helped Heyes to his feet and they once more set off down the trail.

An hour later found them sitting under a tree once more. Kid had suggested they rest again, he was worried about Heyes. As bad as his own injuries were he knew Heyes was in pretty bad shape. 

He moved around to the other side of the tree to relieve himself. He grimaced as he noticed something he'd seen once before after a fight, blood in his urine. Those punches to my back must have done it and I've got no water to drink, he thought. He was also beginning to think Heyes could be right - this might well be the end of the road, for both of them.

He had just lowered himself back down beside his partner when a distant clattering sound grabbed his attention and he struggled back to his feet so he could have a good view of the track. He stood, listening and watching. Eventually a buckboard came into view. Heyes didn't stir. Was he asleep, or had he passed out again, Kid wondered? He stood in the middle of the track and prayed that the driver would stop and help. 

The buckboard was driven by a man in his late fifties. He had a bushy silver grey beard and was wearing a long black coat and a large black hat. He stopped the wagon about twenty yards or so from Curry and took a rifle from under the seat.

"Okay, young fella. You keep your distance now," he shouted, his voice heavy with an accent Kid couldn't identify.

"We need help, mister," called Kid as he raised his hands. "Me and my partner here, we're in pretty bad shape. Got bushwhacked a few miles back. Lost everythin'. See, I ain't wearin' a gun." He held his hands out by his sides and turned around.

Inge Larsson applied the wagon's brake and jumped down with his rifle still aimed at the blond haired man. As Larsson moved closer Kid backed up to stand under the tree next to Heyes. The older man lowered his rifle slightly when he saw Heyes' bruised and swollen face and the amount of blood staining his shirt.

"Looks like they almost killed your friend here. You don't look too bad though," he said, a little suspiciously.

"Oh, believe me, I got my share." Kid turned and slowly pulled up his shirt and henley to reveal vivid red and purple marks all over his back. The blood on his jeans also did not escape the older man's notice. 

Heyes half opened his eyes just in time to see a glimpse of his partner's bruised back. "Your.......your back......you never said," he murmured drowsily. 

The man frowned and shook his head. "There are some nasty people about, that's the truth of it. You had better come home with me. It's too far to take you into town." He stepped forward and helped Kid get Heyes to his feet and onto the wagon. Kid clambered aboard beside his partner and looked for something comfortable to rest against. He pulled up the corner of a tarpaulin only to see their bedrolls and coats. Holding up his sheepskin jacket he called out "Hey, where'd you get these?" as the wagon began rolling. 

Larsson looked over his shoulder. "Those? Oh, they were lying beside the track a couple of miles back. Just picked them up and put them in my wagon. Why?"

"They're ours, part of what was stolen from us."

"Good, good. You've got them back then," he smiled warmly for the first time.

Kid folded Heyes' grey coat and placed it gently under his partner's head before carefully easing himself back against his sheepskin jacket and, despite his overwhelming urge to stay alert in case their attackers returned, he couldn't fight the rocking of the wagon as it lulled him to sleep.

 

Eight months later.....

The two ex-outlaws both agreed that Inge Larsson finding them that fateful day had been a stroke of luck and had certainly saved their lives. Inge had ridden into town to fetch the doctor, and his wife Tilde had tenderly nursed them both back to health over the following weeks. Neither Heyes nor Kid had any money to pay the doctor's fee or to repay the Larssons for their kindness so they did what little they could to help around the farm, taking on more strenuous work as their health improved. It had been a sad day when they had finally felt it was time to leave.

They had once again travelled in the direction that their assailants had taken, enquiring as to the three mens whereabouts in each town they passed through. Now they had arrived in Marksville and planned to carry on their search as well as get a little work to top-up their meagre funds.

Late one evening while Heyes was sleeping Kid let himself out of the hotel room and made his usual rounds of the saloons hoping to see the men who had attacked them. He seemed to alternate these days between feeling angry, or being worried about Heyes. 

It was evident that his partner was still suffering the consequences of the attack. He had lost weight, his face looked drawn and he had developed a tendency to fall asleep at all sorts of odd times, sometimes appearing disorientated when he woke up. The injury to Heyes' ribs hadn't healed well either which meant he found it uncomfortable lifting anything heavy above his head, therefore making something as simple as saddling a horse difficult. 

Curry was on his way back from the outhouse at the rear of Dempsey's saloon when he noticed the saloon girl who had been flirting with him leaning against the wall by the side door. He approached her but she turned to walk back inside. He reached out and grabbed her arm roughly pulling her to him. She tried to push him away but he grabbed her by the throat with his right hand and propelled her backwards, pressing her against the wall. She struggled as he held her there while attempting to undo the buttons of his jeans with his other hand. 

Heyes had woken to a darkened room. He had been trying to sleep off one of the excruciating headaches which had plagued him since the beating and which he feared would stay with him now for the rest of this life. It was late and he really wanted to go back to sleep but felt he should try to find the Kid. Although Heyes was concerned about the damage that he was experiencing physically he was more worried about the emotional harm his partner was dealing with.

Kid had been drinking - a lot - every night in one or other of the saloons in Marksville and Heyes wanted to make sure he stayed out of trouble. He almost walked past the alleyway on his way into Dempsey's when a familiar silhouette caught his attention - then he noticed the girl.

Geez Kid, just take her upstairs, he thought. He was just about to move away and pretend he hadn't seen when a muffled scream changed his assessment of what exactly was happening. Oh no, she may be just a bit of calico but this was not how it should be.

Aware that he could be gambling with his life he sprinted down the alleyway and grabbed his cousin by the shoulders from behind, pulling him away from the girl. Exactly as predicted, Kid's revolver was instantly in his hand and aimed right at him.

Heyes raised his hands. "It's me. Joshua," he said quickly. Kid Curry stared at his cousin blankly as if he didn't know him. 

"Get inside," Heyes ordered the girl, who wasted no time in doing as she was told.

Keeping his hands in the air Heyes moved slowly towards Kid fully aware that the Colt was still cocked and pointing at his chest. "C'mon now, put the gun away."

Kid blinked a few times then appeared to come to his senses and dropped the gun back into its holster. Heyes took a couple of slow deep breaths as Kid buttoned his jeans, then he gripped his cousin's shoulder and steered him towards the hotel.

"What's gotten into you, Kid?" Heyes asked quietly as he closed the hotel room door. He struck a match and the oil lamp flared into life. "You're drunk every night and now this?" 

Kid sat down heavily on one of the beds and rubbed his blond curls. "I dunno. Since the......well, you know....... it's like there's somethin' eatin' at me, makin' me act crazy." 

Heyes sat down in the chair by the window and looked intently at his cousin. He had never asked Kid about the assault and his cousin had not volunteered any details either. It was something neither of them felt comfortable talking about.

"I think we both know what's eatin' at ya. Look, what they did to you don't make you.....different, y'know. You didn't ask them to do it." Heyes paused for a moment. "You've still got a thing for the ladies just like you always did, haven't you?"

Kid nodded. "Sure I have."

"Then I don't get it. You're always real gentle with the ladies, Kid, even the doves. I know those bastards used force but it don't mean you have to."

Kid nodded again. "I know. I just feel so angry, Heyes. I guess I can't just put things to one side like you." 

Heyes gave a snort. "Oh, I'm plenty angry, Kid and I sure haven't put any of what happened to us to one side. I'm just saving it all up for the day we run into those three fellas again and then I can enjoy taking my revenge. That fella with the scar on his face would do for a start."

Kid looked incredulously at his cousin. "Revenge? You, talkin' 'bout revenge? Well that's a first!"

"No it's not. I wanted revenge when Danny Bilson left us and Seth for dead."

"Yeah, but you were prepared to settle for the money he took from us. We'd have just rode outta Matherville that day without doin' anythin' if he hadn't called me out."

"I was prepared to settle for the money because I knew how mad you were and I didn't want you to go and get yourself killed in a gunfight, or hanged for murder." A pause. "Anyway, how's that workin' out for ya, gunnin' a man down in the street?" Heyes asked caustically, frowning at his cousin.

There was silence as Kid studied his hands for a moment. He sighed as he raised pain-filled eyes to Heyes. 

"It felt the same as the first time I did it..... and the second."

Heyes' eyes opened wide in astonishment. "When, where?"

"First in Dodge, then Carson City. It was after we split up for those couple a years. You might've read about it in the papers but they didn't get my name right so you wouldn't have known it was me."

"But you've never said anythin' to me about it." 

"Guess it's somethin' I ain't too proud of, that's why."

"Jesus, Kid!" Heyes shook his head. He couldn't believe that his cousin had been carrying that around inside him all these years.

"Well, y' don't get a reputation as a gunfighter just by bein' quick to the draw." Kid smiled faintly. "The other two called me out and, like Bilson, they drew first. Out of the three Bilson was the one who really deserved to die. He was a no good sonofabitch."

"Tell me, Kid would you have killed him like he said he thought you would? Y' know shot him in the back, in the dark, when nobody was lookin'?"

Kid looked down at his hands again. "He just said that to rile me."

"So, you're tellin' me that if you'd had the chance and I hadn't been there to stop you, you wouldn't have just gunned him down?" 

Kid thought for a moment before he looked earnestly at his cousin. 

"Truthfully Heyes, I'd a blowed his fuckin' head off." 

 

Three months later.....

The road between Hawksburg and Bear Creek was several day's ride through dense forest and along a canyon rim before it wound down to the river valley.

Their enquiries in Hawksburg had proved fruitful and they were convinced that one of the three men, the one with the scar on his face whose name they now knew was Deke Butler, was just a few days ride ahead of them. Desire drove them forward and they were both aware that they were probably pushing their horses too hard but as they were so close they didn't want to risk losing his trail.

Early one morning as they approached the canyon rim they finally picked up some tracks. If it was him, he was alone. Because of the steep drop to one side they took a winding route through the trees and progress was slow. However, later the following day Kid's keen eyes spotted a horse standing alone among the trees.

Instantly, both ex-outlaws were on their guard and, without a word, they slid silently from their saddles. Guns drawn they walked toward the horse and discovered the rider had been behind a tree answering a call of nature. As he emerged they both couldn't fail to recognize him, the scar the length of his cheek making him instantly identifiable.

Holstering their guns and hoping he wouldn't recognize them too soon, they called out a greeting. Despite his size and demeanor Deke Butler backed up a little, wary of the two strangers approaching him. 

"Howdy," said Kid, touching the brim of his hat.

"Hi. Remember us?" asked Heyes cheerily, but before Butler could answer he launched his fist at the man's jaw, knocking him backwards against the tree. 

Butler cursed and tried to reach for his gun but was much too slow. Curry drew and fired in one swift, smooth movement. Heyes was almost convinced he had only heard one shot but he knew it must have been two because the man was hit in two places. The first shot had mangled Butler's gun hand and the second had buried itself in the man's genitals. His cousin usually only took one shot, and that was to disarm but Heyes guessed this was different and, from his aim, he had obviously given it some thought. 

Heyes stood cursing and shaking his hand which hurt from the ferocity of the punch he had thrown. Over the years he had held a lot inside him; things that he felt the need to get even for. The raid on the farms which killed their families, the unfair beatings at the Home for Waywards, Danny Bilson stealing their hard-earned gold and leaving them for dead, and the numerous others over the years who had tried to pin a robbery or murder on them. He took a slow, deep breath as he allowed the darkness the punch had released to envelope him, at last. 

Smiling grimly Heyes' dark brown eyes appeared almost black as he relished the sight of Butler squealing like a stuck pig and writhing on the ground, his blood staining the dirt beneath him. 

Sensing something different in his partner Curry fought an urge to step away and, instead, approached the groaning man. He kicked Butler's gun out of reach and stood over him.

"The other two, where are they?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion as he casually reloaded his Colt.

Butler glared at him. "They'll come after ya for this!" he gasped, clutching his bleeding groin.

"What are their names?" 

Deke Butler managed to laugh between teeth gritted in pain. "They're Wade and Matt Murdstone and they're gonna kill ya! Both of ya!"

Kid Curry cocked his Colt again and cold blue eyes bored into the man. "That ain't gonna happen. They'll be long dead before anyone knows what happened to you. Now, I'll ask ya again, where are they?" 

"I dunno. Split up a few months back," groaned Butler.

"Where?"

"Black River, but I dunno where they are now."

"Pity," said Heyes as he moved forward and stood beside his partner. "We'd have liked to have got all three of you together, kinda like a reunion," he glanced at Kid, "but I guess you'll just have to do......for now."

"Want me to finish him?" Kid asked icily, not taking his eyes off the man.

"Oh, I'm not finished with him yet. I wanna do this first," said Heyes quietly and he aimed his right boot as hard as he could at the man's ribs, again and again. He took immense pleasure in hearing a rib crack. He had been waiting to hear that sound for almost a year. Just as Heyes remembered doing himself, Butler curled up into a ball as he cried out in pain and Heyes allowed himself an appreciative smile.

"Over there," he said nodding in the direction of the canyon and they grabbed a shoulder each of Butler's coat and dragged him to the canyon rim. When they dropped him to the floor he tried to roll into a ball again. Heyes used his foot to roughly push him onto his back and stood with his boot firmly planted in the centre of his chest.

"Now, my partner here," he began, gesturing towards Kid, "he's already killed a man for robbing us and leaving us to die, but me.....well, let's say I've been waiting for the right person to come along, and that person is you. You chose the wrong man to beat half to death and what you did to my partner was inhuman. What I really wanna do is leave ya to bleed to death, nice and slow, but we can't take the chance you'd be found, so....."

Heyes slowly and deliberately cocked his pistol. Butler tried to wriggle out from under Heyes' boot but he increased the pressure and Butler cried out as pain from his broken rib enveloped his chest. The corners of Heyes' mouth twitched again.

"Y' sure ya wanna do this?" Kid asked quietly.

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life." 

Curry took a few steps back, leaving this moment to Heyes alone. 

Heyes' eyes never left Butler's face as he aimed his Schofield at the man's head and smoothly pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot bounced off the silent canyon walls. At such close range the bullet took a good chunk of the man's skull away with it, spattering Heyes' boots with blood. Dark eyes stared steadily at the bloody corpse. Then, with a casual push with his boot Heyes rolled Butler's body off the edge of the canyon and stood silently watching it bounce off the rocks until it was no longer visible.

The two men holstered their guns and turned in unison from the canyon rim. As they walked to their horses Kid glanced sideways at Heyes. He had seen his partner angry before but this was different. Very different. There had been an ice cold, murderous detachment about Heyes which was palpable and made the usually impassive Kid Curry want to shiver. He silently prayed that he would never experience that again.

As they reached their horses and mounted up Kid finally broke the silence. "I guess we can forget this whole amnesty business now."

"Don't make no difference to the amnesty," Heyes replied matter-of-factly.

"I thought we had to stay outta trouble and...." Kid hesitated not knowing how his cousin would react to what he was about to say, ".....well Heyes, from where I was standin' that looked a lot like murder."

"Looked a lot like justice to me."

"Justice?! I thought justice was somethin' done in a courtroom with a judge not on the edge of a canyon with a bullet."

Heyes gave a dismissive shrug. "So you would rather have had all the details of what they did dragged out in a courtroom for everyone to hear, eh Kid?"

Curry looked down at his hands. "Guess not."

Heyes' eyes narrowed. "Are you sayin' he didn't deserve it?" he asked, coldly. "I recall you saying Danny Bilson deserved to die for killin' Seth. I think Butler got off lightly considering what he did to us, especially you, Kid."

Curry leaned on his saddle horn and regarded his friend closely, searching his face for any sign of the man he had seen a few minutes ago at the canyon rim. 

"Yeah, Butler deserved to die, but are we gonna be able to live with it?"

Heyes raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"I stood and watched ya blow half his head away."

"Well, I pulled the trigger and I know I can live with it," replied Heyes with conviction.

"Then I guess I can too." 

Heyes smiled. "Good, because when we find those other two, we might have to live with it all over again."

Turning their horses once again for Bear Creek they knew that the amnesty, if it ever came, would change their lives for the better. Would the events of the past twelve months change their lives? Time would tell.


End file.
